// now knowing how to think, i scream aloud, begin to sink
my legs and arms are broken down with envy for the solid ground //
my legs and arms are broken down with envy for the solid ground //
He attempts to move his arms once the connection’s broken, but when Wessex pins his hands, another shiver runs through him, dances down his spine, another growl of a groan leaving him as he rocks with her through the quakes of their release, until eventually he doesn’t have to fight for his breath. Instead, his chest rises and falls nearly normally, eyes opening the second she loosens her hold and he keeps them there a bit longer as if gathering the strength to move again.
Eventually, though, he pushes back up onto those elbows of his, face flushed red enough that it almost devours his freckles, bronzed skin sleek with sweat and little red swipes of blood from their messy attempts. Not that he cares, though. He still can’t help the way he preens a little under her gaze, scanning her again and lingering on scar after scar (ones similar to his own and yet so, so different).
When she’s ready to move, he helps her up, helps to clean them both up — in silence for the most part, unable to figure out just what to say that wouldn’t lose that low thrumming content that he feels for the moment. A perfect distraction, as if were. But he tugs on his pants, adjusting the belt, before moving to grab his shirt from wherever he’s thrown it — finding hers in the process that he walks over to hand to her. “I’m going to head back to the VlamVloed. You’re welcome to join me if you want to.” He knows eating and drinking won’t affect her, but it’s the company he’s truly asking her for.
Eventually, though, he pushes back up onto those elbows of his, face flushed red enough that it almost devours his freckles, bronzed skin sleek with sweat and little red swipes of blood from their messy attempts. Not that he cares, though. He still can’t help the way he preens a little under her gaze, scanning her again and lingering on scar after scar (ones similar to his own and yet so, so different).
When she’s ready to move, he helps her up, helps to clean them both up — in silence for the most part, unable to figure out just what to say that wouldn’t lose that low thrumming content that he feels for the moment. A perfect distraction, as if were. But he tugs on his pants, adjusting the belt, before moving to grab his shirt from wherever he’s thrown it — finding hers in the process that he walks over to hand to her. “I’m going to head back to the VlamVloed. You’re welcome to join me if you want to.” He knows eating and drinking won’t affect her, but it’s the company he’s truly asking her for.
// i'm reaching for the life within me, how can one man stop his ending?
i thought of just your face, relaxed, and floated into space //
i thought of just your face, relaxed, and floated into space //
SUNJATA
Feel free to use magic/force on Sunjata, without killing him <3
Sunjata speaks with an Australian accent and has a passive magic that makes him produce a subtle scent that matches exactly to whatever those around him most desire him to smell like.
